


So Be It

by charlesworthy



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesworthy/pseuds/charlesworthy
Summary: Frederick isn't interested in soulmates at all.  Jaded, by now, he almost hopes he'll never find his, now that he's seen how an event like that can change the people around him.  However, when a certain mage joins the Shepherds...  He nearly forgets the writing that may indicate he has one of his own; he's so busy making sure a Plegian dark mage doesn't injure his Lord Chrom.





	1. Carrion Isle

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally borne from how much I hate that Frederick just Accepts Henry while Robin gets the run around, despite the stakes, their relative murder-happy trigger-fingers, and the fact that even Chrom can tell Henry is a scary dark mage. Then I made it a soulmate AU for fun!

Frederick was never a man who put much stock into this talk of soulmates. Even as a teenager, while the romanticism was present, he put his duties and knight training first. Of course, as a squire, every boy and girl compared their soulmate markings – words written upon their flesh that were meant to be the first thing one's soulmate would say to them. Supposedly they were written in the soulmate's handwriting. Other squires had things such as “It's you!” and “It's wonderful meeting you”. Frederick's did nothing to fuel any romantic tendencies left in him. In messy, childish handwriting, he had “Can I go now?” written on the top of thigh. The only good thing about it, in Frederick's opinion, was how easy it was to hide. He'd already seen people get stopped by strangers to examine the markings on their arms or hands, it was just another distraction he didn't need.

His disillusion with it was only exacerbated because “Can I go now?” was something uttered to him so frequently that Frederick had no way of telling if it were the first or second or fourth thing anyone had said to him. With time, and enough whining over Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour, he had pushed it out of mind so much that if his soulmate did exist, they would have to find Frederick on their own. This suited him just fine. A knight-retainer to the exalt had enough duties, enough important duties that any distraction could be fatally disruptive, and that was assuming their liege wasn't Chrom of Ylisse.

Adding to his ever-growing weariness with his mark, he got to watch several allies and even friends find each other as soulmates.

It was close to disappointing when Robin, fresh to the army and still under Frederick The Wary's close gaze, stumbled on his in Miriel. Because Frederick was always watching Robin at the time, he was witness to their revelation, eagerly showing Miriel the mark on their collarbone that was Miriel's words in her own neatly swooping script. It only took a few months before they were nigh inseparable; a feat Frederick would have never expected from strict, tight lipped Miriel.

If a soulmate could change her like that, what would it do to him? It was best that Frederick hadn't met his, and better that he may never.

His stance was only solidified when Chrom got married. It was an embarrassing whirlwind of things happening Too Fast, which was, as far as Frederick could see, the standard for soulmates. Chrom had known Olivia for a total of two hours before proposing to her, citing their matching markings as reason why. Their relationship had worked out so far, but Frederick still decided it was founded in irrationality.

Maybe he just didn't get it.

He could understand, to a point, Chrom and Olivia being more surprised with their time traveling daughter than the obvious threat of a Plegian mage. That's why it was his duty to inform them.

Their meeting with Validar, in which they met Robin's twin, had set every one present on edge. The ambush that happened only hours afterwards was suspicious at best, and the mage that appeared to aid them in the fight might as well have had a sign branding him a spy.

Even Chrom was suspicious at first, but Chrom got distracted, as he did, and had forgotten about Henry by the end of the fight. Frederick didn't.

People were dispersing after the fight, all heading in the same direction but taking different speeds to get there. In particular, Chrom and Olivia had halted to speak with Lucina, which Frederick granted them. In the meantime, he'd grabbed the dark mage by the arm.

“Hold there, mage,” he said. “I'll not let you leave until we've spoken to Chrom of your... Allegiance.”

The white-haired male glanced up at him (maybe? It was hard to tell with the squint in his eyes) and then back to Chrom, who seemed to have finished his discussion with his family and was currently walking in the same direction as everyone else. The hard gaze Frederick had affixed to Chrom was probably enough to tell Henry his name, if he were smart at all.

“Chrom! Chrom!” Henry shouted. Chrom didn't look.

Frederick sighed. “Milord! If you would--”

Chrom turned. “We'll speak on the morrow, Frederick!” he replied. Frederick didn't get a chance to reply before Chrom had turned away again, wrapping his arm around Olivia's waist.

Frederick closed his eyes, exasperated.

“Can I go now?” Henry asked, tugging his arm away from Frederick's grip. The Plegian, while not much shorter than Frederick, was thin as a twig. His efforts felt weak to Frederick.

Frederick regarded him coolly. There it was, that phrase again. Another taunt by the fates? He loosened his grip, but in the same motion turned Henry so that they were facing each other head on.

“You're excused,” he said. “But you'll be watched until we've decided your motivations. If I sense anything amiss with your intent, I will not hesitate to strike you down. Understood?”

Henry giggled. “Aw, don't tease me like this! I don't even know your name.”

The knight released his grip on Henry, shoving him away in the same action.

“Okay! I'll just get it from the crows then? Sounds good.”

Frederick glowered.

“Sheesh, okay, I'm _going_ , nya ha! Tough crowd tonight, am I right?” It seemed at this point he were speaking to one of the birds hovering near his head.

Henry started following everyone else to camp, easily inserting himself amongst their ranks. Frederick shadowed him until he entered one sleeping tent and didn't come out. On the morrow, he expected to have a word with Chrom, and not only about Henry.

 


	2. Morning After

Frederick, as usual, was awake at dawn. Because he didn't yet know Henry's sleeping schedule, he forewent his other duties of pebble-clearing and campfire-maintenance in favor of peeking into the tent Henry had chosen to sleep in. It told him more than he had first assumed.

The tent was meant for ten soldiers, who were all still sound asleep on their bed rolls. Henry had been the eleventh, and was thus curled up in the center. The other men had moved away from him as best they could, taking their bedrolls with them and leaving the mage with only his cloak and the soft grass. He was sleeping soundly, however.

Frederick noted that the other men slept close to their swords. He hadn't seen that in a long time. While it could have been a result of the risen ambush they had faced the night prior, Frederick had half a mind that it had something to do with Henry.

He waited outside of the tent for Henry to rise and exit. This was the first thing imperative enough to waste time for – letting the mage go about his business and have run of the camp was _dangerous_ , and it wasn't hard to tell. Chrom's carelessness could have been fatal, and Frederick knew they were only lucky Henry hadn't sought to take the tent himself, covering it in blood in the process. He'd dealt with criminals before, and the insane, and if a man who was just there to throw fireballs at “bad guys” wanted, he could twist the words “bad guys” to include any one.

Henry was awake before the other men, and had left the tent earlier than Frederick had assumed.

“Oh, hey-o,” he greeted. His voice was cheery, but fogged down with sleep. “It's you again. Frederick, right?”

A crow swooped in from above, and Frederick nearly flinched at its sudden presence. It perched on Henry's head, silently watching. Henry giggled.

“Yep! Party Hat here told me last night. Did you know the other men in camp think you need to lighten up? Apparently that's what they were all talking about.”

Frederick's jaw clenched. “I'm aware.”

“Where's the mess tent?” Henry asked. “It's breakfast time, right?”

“Unfortunately, Henry, you'll be accompanying me to a meeting with Lord Chrom. You may come of your own accord, or I will drag you by your arm, but either way you'll be coming.” There, a small olive branch extended, even slightly.

“You don't have to drag me!” Henry answered. The way he spoke was like a song, somewhere in between actual singing and the kind of taunting cadence schoolyard bullies might use. “Which way's the tent?”

Admittedly, Frederick doubted Chrom had yet risen, but he was sure Robin at least would be present. Frederick had distrusted Robin almost to the same extent as he did Henry now, but Robin had proven himself time and time again. In fact, Frederick had grown to consider him a friend, even if the distrust had resurfaced with their visit to Carrion Isle. Having them both in the same room might give Frederick insight to whether either were trustworthy; spies would have tells as they spoke to each other. Frederick knew how to read men.

“Very well,” the brunette replied. “This way, Henry. Stay close.”

“You got it!”

As they started towards their destination, Frederick observed Henry through his peripheral vision. The crow had fluttered off once Henry started moving. Frederick was only glad the storm of birds he'd carried with him on Carrion Isle seemed gone. They would probably come back, as scavengers did, but it seemed of no loss even to Henry if they didn't.

Henry walked like a child. That is, his pace changed by his own whimsy, and his head twisted in every direction, glancing at everything but the direction they were going. At one point, Henry even walked backwards, and Frederick wondered if this weren't some ploy to make him seem harmless and incompetent. The most dangerous part about Henry, from what Frederick could already glean, was that he was obviously intelligent, but played quite the fool. He could already predict that Chrom would brush off Frederick the Wary as being _too_ careful, yet again, and pin Henry as the fool he acted.

Upon entering the usual meeting tent, Frederick was not surprised to see Robin already there, but was by Lucina's presence. Frederick was unacquainted with the girl's older self, but with everything she had done in the past few years, he had little reason to distrust her despite her claims. It was a small gift; he had enough things to be cautious over already.

“Robin, Lady Lucina,” he greeted sternly. Henry popped into the tent beside him.

“I don't see him, nya ha!” the mage said. “Ooh, so you Ylisseans don't hate Plegians as much as I thought, then?”

Robin's arm twitched. The coat he still donned proudly displayed the eyes of Grima – popular Plegian decorations – but the man held no feeling towards it. He was obviously still nervous. If anyone would be shaken after their encounter with his doppelganger, it would be the man himself.

Lucina's mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Good morning Frederick, Henry.”

“...Apologies, my lady, but you know Henry?”

She was from the future. Of course her knowledge would be valuable. She had known of the attack on Emmeryn years ago, had saved Chrom from what she said would be a crippling injury... If Henry were trouble, she would know.

“Not personally,” she admitted. “But I know of him, and I know he is not the threat you may perceive.”

There were few things Frederick disliked more than his lieges judging his carefulness.

“Not to say I do not trust your judgment, Princess Lucina, but I shall prefer to err on the side of caution until I have learned this for myself.”

“Of course,” Lucina replied, unfazed and still smiling. “It's your caution that will continue to keep us safe. I can't predict everything. You perform your duties well to cover any cracks I may miss.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Robin seemed left out. He stuttered as he entered the conversation. “T-this is the new ally we met in the last skirmish?” he asked. He didn't wait for an answer. “Henry, was it? You're... dressed like a mage. That's useful, I feel our magically inclined allies will be a great asset later on in this campaign.” Robin had a tendency for giving the strangest compliments. Perhaps it was why he was suited for Miriel, or perhaps she had been rubbing off on him with time.

“Nya ha! You betcha! I'm one of the best dark mages Plegia's ever seen,” Henry replied, beaming. Frederick wasn't sure his face could make any other expression. “But you'd know, right? Your coat's got Grima _all_ over it.”

Robin fidgeted. “Actually, I'm... I don't remember much of my past. I suppose I may be Plegian, but... Well, if I am, I have no love for it.”

“Nya ha, me too! We'll get along great! Well, the second part. I remember pretty much everything.”

Robin smiled. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Awh shucks, I didn't expect the opposing army to be so friendly.”

Frederick had to wonder why Henry even defaulted to their side. He could ask later, because as the thought crossed his mind, Chrom entered, still affixing his shoulderpad on and making sure his outfit was in order.

“I'm sorry for being late. Good morning.” He took his place in between Robin and Lucina.

Frederick bowed his head, hitting his fist to his chest. “Your Highness.”

“At ease, Frederick.” The prince's head turned towards Henry. “Ah, yes. Henry.”

“Heya!”

“So?” Chrom asked. It was clear any reservations he might have initially of Henry's arrival were dashed. “Do we still think he's a threat?”

“Lady Lucina has slightly alleviated my fears, my lord,” Frederick started. “But in the interests of being thorough I still recommend ejecting him. He's admitted his desire to fight as just that – for fighting's sake. It's clear he isn't invested in our cause nor our banner. At best, he'll be unpredictable, at worst, a fatal mistake.”

Lucina held a smile on her face still. Was there something she wasn't saying? “Frederick, I understand your caution, but this isn't the issue you're making it to be.”

Chrom regarded her carefully, as did Robin. “Lucina, is there something you know...?”

“Of course not, Father,” she replied. “Well, nothing I should say. I do appreciate Frederick's concerns, but Henry is not a threat we need to worry about.”

“With all due respect, my lady, as I've said, I'd prefer to be cautious regarding this issue and...”

Chrom chuckled. “I understand your reserves, Frederick the Wary,” he started. The nickname felt more like a dagger in this moment than it ever had. “But I trust Lucina, as you know, and if she felt Henry were a threat to ourselves or our campaign, she would say so. If you want to include babysitting Henry on your list of duties, I won't stop you, but I believe there are bigger things to worry about yet that don't include any Plegian mages.”

“Of course, sire,” Frederick replied. “My apologies for taking some of your time with this trifling issue.” He was now on autopilot. He didn't mean these words, but it was what the Good Knight would say, and if Frederick was not a good knight, what did he have left? “If I may take my leave...”

“No worries, Frederick. Do what you feel is appropriate, but know where we stand,” Chrom said, a little too cheerfully for Frederick's tastes. “As you will.”

Frederick grabbed Henry's arm as he left the tent, pulling the mage close to him until he was positive they were out of earshot from those still inside.

“Henry,” he started. “My Lord Chrom may think you are not a threat, but you've yet to prove yourself in my eyes. Until then, I expect to see nothing but the best behavior from you, and perfect attendance to Frederick's Fanatical Fitness Hour is mandatory.”

“Nyahaha! What?”

Frederick groaned, pushing Henry away from him yet again. “After breakfast, we meet on the training grounds. I anticipate your attendance.” He smiled. “I look forward to seeing you sweat.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just as a head's up, i have up through chapter 6 already written, but this has also been in the work since 2016... i really appreciate the support so far! thank you for every one who's commented and kudos'd <3


	3. Hooky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short ones today, because the good stuff happens in chapter 5

“Can I go now?” Tharja spat. She was peeling part of her outfit away from her skin. “I despise sweating.”

That phrase made it hard to keep the smile on his face, but Frederick managed. “Now, now, Tharja, I've yet to see you complete three laps of the perimeter yet. If you don't have the stamina to complete a mere three laps, how can you maintain your spell-slinging on the battlefield?”

“You know nothing of magic, imbecile,” she replied, glowering. “I could strike you down now without a second thought.”

That was a threat Frederick knew was hollow. She wouldn't dare, and he knew so. How would he see Henry in the same situation? The differing factor between them was how Henry joined after such a suspicious meeting with Plegia's new king. If Tharja had joined then, too, Frederick would have treated her the same, even if she was morbidly ineffective with her empty threats.

“But of course, Tharja,” he said. “Now get back to running.”

Tharja turned, mirthlessly returning to the circle she was meant to run. Taking his eyes off her meant Frederick wouldn't know if she'd actually finish, but he had to give her credit. He would have never expected Tharja, of all people, to still attend his training sessions.

His mind briefly returned to the phrase. He didn't know of Tharja's mark, nor where it was, which was surprising, given the woman's revealing choice in outfits. Perhaps it had something to do with her fixation with their tactician. Perhaps she didn't have one? Frederick wondered if that were possible as his brown eyes re-scanned the training grounds. He could count heads for attendance, but knew automatically who was present and who was not. It was a usual turnout for a usual day, which meant someone was playing hooky.

Henry.

Frederick made some sort of sound that could have been defined as a growl, perhaps, and turned away from the training field. He wasn't sure where to begin searching for Henry, but he'd be damned if he let a slippery Plegian go about potentially duplicitous actions. Tharja earned his trust. He'd treat Henry the same.

The first place he looked was the mess tent. There was no shock of silver hair he could see from the entrance, so he left in an attempt to scour some of the other tents. It was difficult to search for someone he knew so little about. Was Henry the kind of man to skip breakfast? Or the kind to return to sleep after waking up for it? Perhaps by chance, Frederick didn't have to guess.

“Hey there!” Henry greeted. He was uncomfortably close to Frederick, especially as approaching from behind. Frederick turned stiffly and quickly.

“I told you attendance to morning training was not optional,” he stated, voice level. “Yet you were not, and are not, attending.”

Henry gave a noncommittal shrug. “Cut me a break, I don't even know where the training grounds are, yet!”

Yes... Perhaps that was the issue. Frederick would grant him that. However... “And you couldn't find a single soldier to direct you there?” he asked. “I find that odd.”

The mage giggled. “Ah~” he said. “I see how it is. Believe it or not, Freddie, there's plenty of soldiers around that won't give me the time of day. I just moved in, too! How rude!”

Frederick could already tell Henry would be even more irritating than Tharja.

“I'd be more than happy to show you the way, Henry,” he offered, smiling and extending a hand. “We'll hold hands as to not get lost, and you'll know where to appear tomorrow, at the crack of dawn, for training.”

Henry seemed to regard his hand (and offer) carefully, though it was hard to read a face so unchanging as his. Almost imperceptible, Frederick saw the corners of Henry's mouth twitch into an even _stronger_ grin, and he raised one hand, as if ready to accept.

Then he spit in his hand, and Frederick withdrew his. Childish.

“If that's how it'll be,” he said. “Perhaps those little birdies of yours can point you the way, hm?”

Henry had mentioned the crows giving him Frederick's name. Frederick wondered if he meant actual crows or perhaps a network of informants already present in their army. If Henry were a spy, he painted quite the picture of incompetence, but Frederick knew better than to be so lax. The Plegian would be tested and he would need to prove himself. It was only difficult setting measures with a man so reliably unpredictable.

Still, Frederick was only disappointed he didn't have enough time and effort to put into determining Henry's motivations. His only comfort was Lucina's guidance, while he didn't quite believe, he knew her to be a cautious young woman wise beyond her years. Chrom's dismissal of Henry was to be expected, but Lucina's actually held weight for Frederick.

Henry was quiet for longer than Frederick anticipated. Was he thinking? Or just playing a trick? Every single action the mage made was going to be scrutinized by Frederick thoroughly until the knight had any inkling of what Henry was like.

“Are we done?” he asked. “Or do you have something else for me?”

Frederick tensed. “We'll be done when you attend training in the morning.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Frederick started, already having a million reasons prepared. “In order to survive this war, every one must be fighting at peak condition. My training program incorporates several different--”

Henry left, mid-sentence, giggling.

 


	4. A Plan

“Can I go now?” Lissa groaned.

Frederick chuckled. “Milady, you were the one that wanted to sit in on the war table, if I recall.”

She pouted, puffing up her chest in a way that was decidedly _un_ -princesslike. “I didn't think it would be so boring!”

“Calm, Lissa,” Chrom said. “We're almost done.”

“As I was saying,” Robin continued. Frederick had noticed his way of speaking changed since he was wed. He'd yet to observe the same change in Chrom, but he wasn't sure Chrom was ever capable of changing. Even at age 22, Frederick could see in him the same traits he had at 12.

“It seems wasteful, but using the ships as empty weapons of siege will cause enough damage and more than enough distraction to carry us through their ranks on but a few ships.”

“It seems reckless, Robin,” Frederick corrected.

The tactician gave only a nod, staring over the maps and paper before him. “It seems our best option, Frederick. Unless you have something that would work better?”

Frederick did not like the tiny smirk Robin had, but between friends it was merely a challenging jest. Two years ago he may have interpreted it as a threatening jab.

“Of course not,” Frederick replied, a small smile gracing his own lips. “I'm just a little curious what exact outcomes you're anticipating.”

Robin's smile turned softer. “A great fire on the seas. In our small vessel, it will be easily navigable, but for an entire fleet like theirs... It will be where their numbers fail. That's the modus operandi for this campaign, Frederick. We must find ways to use their numbers against them.”

“I'm not sure anyone could think of a better plan,” Chrom said. He always had an incredulous looking smile after hearing one of Robin's strategies. Robin never noticed it.

“I'll be interested in seeing it succeed,” Frederick commented.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how to title chapters


	5. Shared Seasickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emeto mention, no description of the thing

The ship they were on was just large enough to fit every Shepherd aboard in spaces that weren't too comfortable. The entire journey, Frederick had thought of how Plegia might resent the way their gift was used. Would Henry be reporting to them that it was by Robin's own confidence that their ships sank?

The mage was at least easier to watch in these closed spaces. From afar, Frederick had seen him run about the ship, crows following and scaring off the gulls. He'd never seen ravens at sea before, but it couldn't have been common. What sort of magic bound them to Henry? Were they a part of it?

Frederick leaned on an outer railing, watching where the waves met the sky. He was prone to seasickness, but had enough experience to know how to handle it. The times he'd been at sea were very few, but he at least knew all the old wives' tales of remedies.

Suddenly, someone was beside him, hurling over the railing.

He sighed. “Are you alright?”

Henry pulled himself upright again, rubbing his mouth on his sleeve. “Nyaha, I'm fine.” He looked a little light on his feet, more so than usual, and curled himself over the ship's railing. “I've never been at sea before! It's this big all over, huh?”

Frederick wasn't sure what he meant.

“I suppose it is,” he replied. “Will you be okay?”

Henry nodded. “Yeah.” His voice was eerily soft. He almost sounded like a normal young man. “I just don't know how to handle myself. Nyahaha, that's enough running around for me!”

Frederick regarded him even as he turned back to watch the horizon. “I know a few cures for seasickness,” he said.

Henry turned, gazing at him with the same cool gaze Frederick would have expected from one of the birds that followed him around.

“Staring at the horizon typically helps me. I've heard it said that the movement of the ship against the waves is what disorientates most. The horizon makes you feel still, or something like that.”

“Hm.”

“If you inform Stahl, he usually keeps herbs on hand for nausea. He already gave some to me, but I would rather them go to someone who's feeling worse than I.”

“May I?” Henry held up his hand, palm upward. Frederick regarded it carefully. “No spit this time, promise.” The mage's eyebrows quirked upwards slightly. Frederick decided that's where he'd have to look if he wanted to read Henry's intent.

The knight nodded. He had held them in a small pouch at his side, which he unfastened from his belt and opened. There were a few other must-haves inside, so Frederick had to look for the small container holding the herbs Stahl had given him.

“Why are you wearing your armor?” Henry asked.

Frederick's answer was held in his gaze.

“Don't look at me like that! We're not supposed to engage the enemy for a few more days. I'm sure the armor doesn't help being sick. Heck, I'm feeling too heavy right now, and I don't have _any_.”

“While I trust Robin's guidance, it never hurts to be careful,” Frederick replied. He gingerly placed the herbs in Henry's palm. The mage's fingers curled around the bag instantly. Frederick had an immediate image come to mind of Henry reeling back, throwing the herbs out to sea and laughing as he walked away, leaving Frederick groaning.

He slipped them into his own pouch, giving it a pat. “You trust Robin, why not me?”

Frederick felt like laughing. He opened his mouth to reply, but Henry gave the answer himself.

“It's because I’m like this, huh?” He held a knowing smile, one finger pointing straight up. “Because I'm Plegian and I'm not throwing myself at your knees for forgiveness for being _born_ that way. Because I showed up at the right place at the right time, but also at the wrong time? Do you think I'm a spy?”

Frederick tensed, but decided Henry could answer that question himself, too.

“I know anything I say can and be used against me in a trial of war, but Plegia didn't like me either. They liked me _less_ , if you can imagine.” He laughed, throwing a cheery smile at Frederick. “Everyone here's so friendly! It's so weeeeeird~”

Frederick smiled back. “As unfortunate as that sounds, Henry, I'm glad to hear that you're at least comfortable here.”

Maybe if he felt so welcome, he'd not murder any Shepherd while they slept.

“Glad because I won't kill anyone I like?” he asked. The mage pushed himself off of the ship's railing, stepping away and spinning with the same momentum. His hands moved as if they had plucked the words out of Frederick's mind with the same motion. “Nyaha ha! You're too easy, Fred!

“Anyway, I'm gonna take these herbs and see what makes 'em tick. Let me know when the enemy shows up early, and you'll only have to worry about me killing them before you can.”

Henry left with a smirk, and Frederick thought he finally got a glimpse of the mage's eyes, which seemed perpetually in a squint. It was unsettling in a strange way, not because Frederick was afraid of Henry or what he was capable of, but because he was suddenly curious what color eyes Henry had.

Frederick dashed the thought from his mind and returned to focus on the horizon. The sun was near setting, casting a slurry of vivid colors across the lapping waves. Silhouetted against the sun was sharp shapes denoting other ships. As predicted, the Valmese fleet was upon them, and they would collide the next morning.

Frederick sighed, trying to pull his eyes away from the ship and back to the horizon. If he could pull his mind away from the oncoming battle, he'd be able to sleep well. That did not look like it would be the case tonight.

 


	6. Flames on the Blue

The next day, the Shepherds prepared for battle. Robin had planned well, but their ship had been overtaken by three of the enemy's. Planks had already been set with the intention to board the ship and the tactician was tensed, sword ready, pacing the length of the ship. He could plan all he wanted, but he couldn't anticipate exact numbers and troops their foe would deploy.

He held his neck craned, giving him a just slightly better view of their foe, before he started shouting commands.

They were quick, his voice sharp on the crisp sea air.

Frederick kept his ears tuned to Robin's words. Sumia and Cordelia would be keeping the enemy's pegasus knights away from their ship to the best of their ability. Chrom would take the lead charge, Robin by his side, Miriel by Robin's.

“Frederick, you can handle that plank yourself, right?” was the first question Robin asked in his direction.

“Affirmative,” Frederick replied steadily.

Robin nodded. “Take Henry with you. He could use the experience.”

As if summoned, the dark mage was immediately at Frederick's right side, giggling “Wow! I can't wait to see you make some human kebabs!”

Frederick kept his face stern. He couldn't keep himself from questioning Robin's decision, but quickly came up with a bigger silver lining the tactician probably kept in mind. This was probably Robin's acknowledgment of Frederick's caution, silent and respectful. On top of it, Robin had yet to see the Plegian truly fight, in all likelihood. With Frederick at Henry's side, he could at least save the mage from too much trouble, which was especially vital since the rumor spread around camp that Henry held a deathwish. Frederick could only hope this duty wouldn't become another instance of babysitting.

“Very well, Henry, stay close to me,” he replied. “And don't try anything funny.”

“Is punny off the table, then?”

Frederick anticipated a long battle ahead of him, with nothing to say for his assigned companion. Perhaps fortunately, his prediction would be false.

The plank Robin had assigned them to was to a small ship filled with mostly fighters and armored knights. Of course a veteran, like Frederick, and a mage, such as Henry, were a perfect duo to take on such a force.

“Stay behind me,” Frederick said. “I can deflect the blows and you're better suited for the second line.”

Henry giggled. “I'm pretty good at taking hits, y'know! It's a talent.”

Frederick just rolled his eyes, but as the fight went on it became clear that Henry was a mage of many talents. The fires he conjured burned hotter than Frederick was comfortable being so close to, and yet they were flung artfully, at times taking strange, nonsensical patterns in the air in order to hit their targets and avoid Frederick. He would have assumed Henry would fight dirty, uncaring of who, friend or foe, got in his path, but it was obvious his spells were delicately placed, and just as furiously powerful.

It was somewhat a mesmerizing display. Frederick had seen plenty of magic, before, but Henry's were obviously different. His spells weren't just for damage, they were also for show, it seemed. Frederick couldn't afford to stay gawking.

He returned to the fight.

He guided his mare around one of the fighters, aiming to strike him from behind, but an opposing general caught his lance and forced him to engage. He only saw a brief moment of the fighter approaching Henry (aiming for who was obviously the weaker unit), before jabbing his lance into a gap of the general's armor. The general fallen, he could aid Henry.

The fighter slashed at Henry, his axe catching the mage in the side. Henry obviously flinched, but the momentum brought the fighter forward, and Henry grabbed at his head.

The dark mage jumped back, fist clenched around something Frederick could not see. All he saw was Henry's mouth form around words he couldn't hear, and the fighter cry out in pain. The fighter recoiled, hunched over and clutching his face. With an inhuman grace, Henry lifted his leg and pushed the fighter off the boarding plank with his heel.

Frederick watched the man fall into the ocean, and saw he had no eyes.

Henry's fist unclenched, and what looked like hair fell gently from his fingers before he moved his hand to clutch his wounded side. It was then that he looked up, saw Frederick, and grinned. Frederick suddenly realized the hit had knocked the smile off Henry's face.

“Are you alright?” Frederick called, fingers tightening their grip on his lance.

Henry answered with a thumbs up, raised high, before trotting over to Frederick grinning. “That was great! Was he the last one, or can I do that again?”

Well, if he could still fight, Frederick could worry about it later.

There were only two others left on their assigned ship, and the rest of the battle was drawing to a close. Frederick weakened them, but Henry dealt the killing blow. Henry seemed to like it that way, and seemed not to mind that in a way, that was Frederick coddling him. Even if he could fight, he shouldn't exert himself with such a wound, and Frederick knew so little of magic to know if it affected him.

When the fight was over, Frederick dismounted his mare and approached Henry.

He was already small, but slightly hunched over, hand still on his side, he seemed smaller and vulnerable.

“How bad is the wound?”

“Hunh?” Henry wasn't smiling, strangely enough, but it returned quickly. “It hurts...”

He paused, canting his head to one side. Frederick could never tell what Henry was looking at, but it seemed this time it was not at him. He seemed to be considering something.

“...Do you think they tore open my liver?” His words dripped with an eerie excitement that was so typical of him. “Maybe I have a broken rib! Ruptured kidney! Nyaha, good bye, intestines!”

“Henry, this is serious,” the knight hissed. “We must get you to a healer immediately.”

“Serious?” Henry repeated. “It'd be serious if I were any one but Henry, but last I checked....” He glanced around. “I'm still me. Creepy dark mage. Wouldn't you rather get rid of me right now? Nya ha! Go on, push me in.”

Henry straightened, turning his grin on Frederick full on. He leaned forward, balancing on the balls of his feet. Frederick caught a glimpse of bright violet under his eyelashes. “That's what you wanted from the beginning right? Saves you the trouble of _watching_ me. What a pain I must be! I could kill the commander at any time – “

Frederick clasped his hand on Henry's shoulder, fingers tightly curling into the fabric of his cloak. He could feel the mage's muscles tighten under his grasp, he was already turning to move towards the ocean. Frederick didn't budge, though, and Henry didn't push it. His smile faltered, just a bit.

“You know I'm kinda afraid of the ocean?” Henry continued. His voice was harsh now, but low. “It's so _big_. I can't know what _will_ kill me in the end – but it's gonna be slow and painful, I know that! Fish will nibble my flesh – exposure will flay my face alive – my stomach will cramp as it thirsts for _good_ water – ahaha! What a way for a spy to go, right? They give worse to thieves!”

Frederick pushed him the other way. He turned him towards the main ship, where the other Shepherds were regrouping, and moved his hand to press his shoulder gently – a nudge in the right direction, nothing more. He removed his hand from Henry.

“My lady Lissa will see your wound healed in but a moment, Henry. We'll need you to heal well if we want to see you fight as well during our next skirmish,” he replied, carrying an almost friendly smile.

Henry stumbled a bit walking forward, but Frederick heard his laugh chime even if he couldn't see his face.

 


End file.
